Good Behavior
by theSilence
Summary: Crackfic. Stiles is used as a prop for Derek's secret scheme. Or is he? Sterek. Seriously, I don't know... I can't even...


**Good Behavior**

The day had been pretty normal for Stiles Stilinski, and that was saying something considering his life had been flipped upside-down ever since his best friend was bitten by a werewolf. But school was school. Mr. Harris gave him a hard time, like always. Lydia ignored him, like always. The coach benched him during lacrosse practice, like always. And Scott had opted to go make out with Allison rather than hang out, _like always_. So yeah, considering his days had been filled with werewolves and kanimas, this was a pretty normal day.

That is until about seven at night when Derek Hale showed up on his doorstep.

Now, usually the sourwolf would go into creeper mode by breaking in through Stiles' bedroom window should he ever need to, so you can imagine Stiles' surprise in seeing Derek on the porch. Needless to say, Stiles was very confused.

"Hey… Derek. What's going on?"

"We're going to a movie. Let's go."

Stiles' eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was not expecting that. His mind instantly tried to rationalize why Derek Hale would be taking him to a movie. "We're going there to spy on someone, right? Is there a new hunter or shape shifter in town we gotta look out for?"

Derek just pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stiles. Get your jacket. Let's. _Go_."

Okay, so Derek was irritated. That's no big deal. Derek was always irritated. But Stiles did as he was told, grabbing his jacket and locking up his house before hopping into Derek's Camaro.

Derek was silent the entire way. Stiles tried to ask him about what they were doing and who they were spying on, but the man was a brick wall. Stiles just sighed to himself and accepted that this was his fate. Doomed to be stuck with a sourwolf who had no social skills whatsoever.

Well, whatever the reason Derek had for coming to the movies didn't matter to Stiles one bit. He had no problem being a prop in Derek's super hush-hush secret plan, especially if they ended up watching a movie Stiles had been dying to see. And Stiles most definitely had no complaints when Derek shoved him out of the way to pay for the tickets and again for the refreshments- well except for the whole being shoved part of it.

Stiles followed Derek to the back of the theater. 'Oh! Smart, smart,' Stiles thought. 'That way he can see the whole room.' While waiting for the movie to start, Stiles would take a good look at the people who walked in, trying to figure out if they looked suspicious or not. On the surface, everyone seemed to be pretty ordinary, but you never know. He was sitting next to a werewolf for crying out loud!

The movie they watched was filled with action and car chases and unnecessary explosions that the main character always seemed to walk away from in slow motion. Stiles had nearly forgotten that they were on a stakeout except that whenever he dared a glance at Derek, the man seemed like he was annoyed. And with the way his hands were gripping the armrest hard enough to leave scratches, Stiles hoped that Derek wouldn't wolf out in the middle of the crowded theater.

But all went well and after the movie, Derek took Stiles home. The teenager tried engaging in conversation again, asking if the stakeout proved fruitful, but again, the older man just ignored him. Stiles jumped out of the car once it pulled up to his house. He didn't miss the way Derek scowled, eyes narrowing on the open door, but didn't exactly know what to think of it. He leaned back in, catching Derek's gaze.

"So… was it the guy in the Hawaiian shirt? It was the guy in the Hawaiian shirt, right? That shirt by itself is a red flag."

Derek huffed. "_Good_ _night_, Stiles.

"All right, all right." Stiles closed the door behind him and watched as the Camaro sped off into the distance.

/\/\/\

The next few days were pretty quiet, even _with _the full moon. Scott had that anchor thing down packed so it's not like he had to busy himself with that.

After getting home from school, Stiles bounded up the stairs, dumped his backpack on the floor and hopped into his desk chair. It was there that he noticed a piece of paper on his desk that wasn't there before he left. The scrawl on it was a bit messy, as if the writer had scribbled it down in a rush. It read:

_When I see you, I wanna rip your throat out._

_Your eyes are brown, like dirt._

_You smell._

_Derek_

Stiles just stared at the paper in utter confusion. He frowned. "Oh yeah? Well I think your stubble is _stupid_." He blew a raspberry at the sheet of paper before pushing it aside to do some research.

/\/\/\

A few days after that, Stiles came home after yet another normal day at school only to see Derek's Camaro parked outside his house. As he got out of his car, Derek slinked out of his, walking up to the teen. He had an envelope in his hand. When he was standing in front of the boy, he shot his arm out, holding the envelope up to him.

"Um," Stiles looked at it curiously before taking it from the older man. He opened it, pulling out a gift certificate for a free tune-up for his jeep. "What is this?" Stiles frowned. "Are you making fun of my car?" he asked loudly.

"_No_," Derek scowled.

The two just stared each other for a few seconds, Stiles wondering what the hell was going on.

Derek exhaled harshly. "Look, do you want it or _not?_" He growled.

Stiles thought about it for a moment. 'A free tune-up means my dad doesn't need to worry about it when it actually _does_ need one.' He conceded. "All right."

And without another word, Derek spun around, got in his car and took off.

/\/\/\

On Friday after school, Derek was waiting for Stiles in the parking lot.

"I'm picking you up for dinner at eight. Be ready."

"Dinner? What for?"

Derek didn't answer. He just glared at the boy, tight-lipped.

"Uh, okay then. Eight, right?"

He didn't even give a response. He just lurked off into the shadows from whence he came. Stiles was still clueless as to what was going on, but he thought about the time at the movies. 'Maybe it's another stakeout?'

Well, whatever the reason, Stiles was ready when Derek came knocking on his door promptly at eight. Stiles blinked. The older man had shaved. He had also hung up his trademark leather jacket and opted for a black blazer instead.

"Should I… change?" Stiles asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Derek glared. "No. You're fine. Let's go."

Derek drove them to a fancy restaurant, complete with candles on every table. It made Stiles feel completely underdressed considering he was wearing his typical t-shirt and a hoodie. Stiles picked up the menu and stared at it. He couldn't understand a thing. So when the waiter showed up, he just pointed at something that he hoped was chicken, but he couldn't exactly be sure.

Stiles glanced around the room, trying to see if anything suspicious was going on. Maybe there was a secret transaction happening. Maybe there was a hunters' meeting at table seven. He tried to recognize anyone in the room that might've been at the theater those some nights ago, but no one really stood out. Stiles sighed. He wished Derek would let him in on the scheme. He could be a good ally. Really. He could.

Unfortunately, the item Stiles pointed at was certainly _not_ chicken. Whatever it was didn't seem to agree with Stiles' palette. He opted to munch on his salad and the free breadsticks rather than try to stomach the… stomach.

"Ugh," Stiles grunted as he fell into the passenger seat. "I am ready to get home and make myself a sandwich."

Derek jerked his head in Stiles' direction. "You're still hungry? But you barely touched your food."

"That's cause I didn't know what I ordered."

"So you didn't like it."

"No, not really. What does it matter though?" Stiles gasped. "You don't think the guy noticed, do you? You think he saw me not eating and figured out that we were there to spy? But it should have looked all right. I mean, I still ate the salad and breadsticks."

Derek just exhaled deeply, eyes focusing forward.

Stiles didn't get why Derek was getting so upset. He really doubted their target had spotted them just cause Stiles didn't eat his food. He hadn't blown this, had he?

"I'm sorry if I screwed up," Stiles tried.

"It's fine," Derek gritted out.

"No really. I didn't mean-"

"I said it's _fine_," he snapped. "It's _my_ fault."

Now Stiles began to feel guilty. Did Derek regret bringing Stiles along? Maybe he thought it would have been better if he brought Erica or Isaac. Stiles didn't like feeling like a failure.

Once they pulled up to the Stilinski household, Derek immediately turned to Stiles. "Don't _move_."

Stiles stayed glued to the spot, a chill running down his spine. Was someone outside his house? Someone bad? Derek got out of the car and walked around. Stiles was grateful that Derek was scanning the area for any potential danger, especially after maybe ruining dinner. Derek opened the passenger door, letting Stiles get out of the car. He stayed close by as he escorted Stiles to his front door.

"Is everything okay?" Stiles asked, voice low as he unlocked his door.

"What would you have eaten?"

Stiles blinked, the question coming straight out of left field. "Um, what?"

"For dinner. Where would you have gone."

"You mean if it weren't a stake out?"

Derek just looked annoyed again, scowl sinking into its place of residency.

"I don't know," Stiles shrugged. "I could've gone for some pizza."

The scowl on his face deepened. Derek just turned around and got back in his car.

Stiles took a look around. Hopefully, whatever danger there might've been was gone.

/\/\/\

It wasn't until the following week that Derek showed up again on Stiles' doorstep. This time, he had a pizza under his arm and a movie in his hand.

'Oh, maybe that's a video of the guy Derek's been surveying. Maybe he's finally gonna let me in on the plan!' Stiles was excited, finally feeling like he may be of some use to the werewolf.

But he was wrong. It was just a plain old movie. Okay it wasn't plain. It was action packed, full of guns that never needed reloading and fight sequences that were sped up in editing to make them look more awesome than they actually were. But still, it left Stiles feeling completely confused. Was he missing something here? Cause if Derek is here, sharing a pizza with him, watching a movie, then that means their target was elsewhere not being targeted. He glanced over to the older man who was leaning against the armrest, one hand in his hair. He actually seemed a bit relaxed, despite the ever-present frown on his face.

Once the movie was done, Derek walked out on the porch, Stiles escorting him out. He paused turning to look the teen in the eye.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked.

Derek let out one breath before leaning forward and kissing Stiles firmly on the lips. Derek's lips were gentle against the immobile pair that Stiles owned. He was shocked and couldn't find the brainpower to do anything. Derek pulled back, staring deeply into Stiles' eyes, trying to read him.

"W-what the hell was _that_?" Stiles sputtered, gaining the power of speech.

Derek looked abashed, turning his gaze to his shoes. "It was… our third…" he said softly.

"Excuse me?" Stiles said, turning his head to hear better. "Our third what?"

Derek peeked up. "Our third date."

Stiles was floored. "_What_?" He thought back, trying to figure out what had happened. 'The movie… the dinner… and then this. Those were _dates_?' He gaped. "Those were _dates_?"

Derek just turned his head, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Stiles tried to think back some more. "The certificate?"

"A gift."

"And that note?"

"A love poem."

"A _love_ poem?" He repeated incredulously. "I specifically recall you saying that you wanted to rip my throat out, that my eyes look like dirt, and that I smell. And that's a _love_ poem?"

"You smell good… and your eyes are like forest dirt, where I feel most at home."

At this, Stiles had to blush. "But… well then what about the first line?"

Derek shrugged. "It's how you make me feel sometimes."

Stiles shook his head. None of this made sense. "No, no. We were on a stake out."

"We were on a date."

Okay, so maybe the dinner might've been a date. It _had_ been a fancy restaurant lit by candlelight. But the movie?

"During the movie, you looked like you were going to maim someone."

Derek blushed harder, ducking his head. "I wanted to hold your hand."

Stiles gawked, flabbergasted. "After dinner, you surveyed the area for intruders."

"After dinner, I opened the door for you."

Shocking. "So-so then this here. This kiss-"

Derek looked up again. "Kissing isn't allowed until the third date. And sex isn't allowed until you're comfortable or typically after six months."

"Sex!" Stiles would have laughed at the absurdity of it all, but Derek was _serious_. There was not a hint of humor coming from the older man. Well, to be fair there was almost never a hint of humor coming from him, but more so now than ever.

Stiles was shell-shocked. "You're… you're serious?"

Derek solemnly nodded.

"You want to date me."

Nod.

"You actually _like_ me."

Nod.

Stiles was speechless.

Derek frowned. "Do… do you not… like _me_?" A hurt expression crossed his face, as if the possibility never occurred to him. He looked like a kicked puppy.

"Of course I do!" The words tumbled out before it could even register in his head. Stiles was surprised again, this time by the truth of his own admission. But with the way his confession lit up Derek's face, it seemed worth it.

Derek moved forward again, this time wrapping an arm around Stiles' waist. His other hand cradled the boy's cheek as he leaned down for another kiss. Stiles found out how to work his lips this time around and kissed back. His hands found their way into Derek's hair, playing with it, running his fingers through it.

Derek pulled back again, slightly out of breath. He smiled down at Stiles. It made the teen wish to see it more often. Derek looked quite charming when he wasn't glaring things into submission.

Stiles gulped, trying to focus his thoughts. "So sex, huh?"

Derek chuckled, walking backwards off the porch. "Six months."

"But you said when I'm comfortable-"

"_Six months_, Stiles." He smiled.

Stiles sighed. Six months sure was a long time. Maybe he could get that sentence cut in half with good behavior.

* * *

**Notes**: So in my head, this is actually called **The God Awful Courting Tactics Used to Woo Stiles Stilinski by Derek Hale.** But I figured that might be giving away too much haha. Derek is a lot OOC at the end there, blushing and such, but I think it's funny. This is such a crackfic. I don't know. Once that poem got in my head, I just HAD to write this, you have no idea. So I apologize for how ridiculous this is XD


End file.
